The Runaway Astrophysicist And Her Secret

After five years of a cold, empty marriage to tech titan Arlo Hatfield, I tricked him into signing our divorce papers, disguised as a grant application for my astrophysics fellowship in Chile.

Just as my escape was within reach, I discovered I was pregnant. At the same time, I found Arlo doting on his childhood sweetheart, Brielle, who was faking her own pregnancy to win him over.

In the hospital, suffering from a real pregnancy complication, I watched as Arlo rushed to Brielle' s side, completely ignoring my pain. He was so blinded by her lies that he didn't even realize I was carrying his child, assuming I'd just had a minor stomach flu.

"Corinne, darling, are you alright?" Brielle cooed, her eyes glinting with victory. "Arlo and I just got the most wonderful news. Our little one is doing so well."

He never even looked back at me.

I saw the truth then: I was invisible to him, and so was our child. His world was built on power and lies, and there was no place for us in it.

So I fled. I took our baby and disappeared to Chile, building a new life among the stars, far from his suffocating shadow. I thought I had finally escaped.

Years later, after a catastrophic earthquake, he found me. Bruised, broken, and desperate, he begged for forgiveness. "I didn't know," he pleaded.

I looked at the man who had shattered my world and held our child closer. "You didn't care to know," I said, my voice as cold as the space between galaxies. "And now, you've lost everything."

Chapter 1

Corinne Preston POV:

I pushed open the heavy oak door. The sound echoed in the silent, plush corridor of Hatfield Legal, a small but deliberate punctuation mark in the quiet of my planned escape. In my hand, the thick manila envelope felt like a shield, or maybe a weapon.

Five years.

Five years married to Arlo Hatfield, the tech titan, the man who owned half the city' s skyline and, until today, a significant part of my life. Today, that ended.

The receptionist, a woman with hair pulled so tight it looked painful, barely glanced up. "Do you have an appointment?" Her voice was flat, bored.

"Corinne Hatfield," I said, the name still feeling foreign on my tongue. "I'm here to finalize the documents." I slid the envelope across the polished dark wood desk.

Her eyes, framed by severe spectacles, scanned my face. I saw the flash of surprise, quickly veiled. "Mrs. Hatfield? I... forgive me. I didn't recognize you." She probably expected someone draped in diamonds and designer labels. I was wearing a simple tailored suit, chosen for its anonymity.

"It's fine," I said, my voice steady. "Just the documents."

She picked up the envelope, her brow furrowing slightly at its unusual thickness. "Are you certain about this, Mrs. Hatfield? Divorce is… a significant step." Her tone implied I was making a frivolous mistake.

I knew what she thought.